


I’ll be home

by manesalex



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Bisexual Maria DeLuca, F/F, Internalized Homophobia, Lesbian Isabel Evans, Minor Max Evans/Liz Ortecho, Minor Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, WWII AU, references to masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23677978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manesalex/pseuds/manesalex
Summary: While both of her brothers are off fighting the war, Isobel Evans opens her home to Maria Deluca and the Ortecho sisters and Isobel confronts some truths about herself she’s been hiding for a long time.
Relationships: Maria DeLuca/Isabel Evans
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10
Collections: Time After Time: A Roswell New Mexico Alternate Era AU Event





	I’ll be home

“The Ortecho sisters, Liz and Rosa, are in my brother, Max’s, room,” Isobel says, gesturing at the room in question as she leads Maria Deluca through the house she shares with her brothers. Or, more accurately, shared. Will share again once the war is won. “You’ll be staying in my brother, Michael’s, room.” She opens that door. It’s clean now, most of Michael’s projects stored in the basement for the time being.

Maria steps inside, looking around.

“I’m at the end of the hall,” Isobel continues. “Dinner is at seven p.m.. The Ortechos usually make that. Their father owns a lovely little restaurant in New Mexico and he taught them well.” She pauses, “Breakfast is at seven a.m.. I cook that, but I must admit I’m far less skilled than either Liz or Rosa.” Isobel is well aware that her cooking is edible, but not particularly tasty, especially with the limited food options, thanks to rationing. Liz and Rosa make magic with what they’re given but, well, Isobel can barely fry an egg.

Maria is quiet, taking it all in, so Isobel takes the hint, “I’ll leave you to get settled.”

* * *

After a month of silence without her brothers there, bickering constantly, making their home feel like a home, Liz and Rosa Ortecho moving in had been almost exactly what Isobel needed. The siblings argued constantly in only the way siblings did, but Isobel always felt like she was on the outside.

Maria, on the other hand… It takes her a few days to get comfortable, but it’s not long before she’s joining Liz and Rosa in the kitchen as they cook, laughing happily.

Just the sound makes Isobel smile as she walks past. Even on the outside, it’s wonderful to be near it.

“Miss Evans!” Maria calls after her. “Would you care to join us?”

“How many times must I ask you to call me Isobel?” she asks as she makes her way into the kitchen, uncertain about her welcome.

“I’ll call you Isobel when you stop calling me ‘Miss Deluca’,” Maria responds with a challenging look that only serves to make Isobel want things she knows she shouldn’t.

Isobel pretends to consider it for a moment before she responds with a smile, “Deal,” she holds out her right hand to shake.

Maria looks surprised by the offer, but she takes it. Her hand is warm and soft and Isobel has to force herself to let go after a moment, eyes moving to the floor.

“Liz was just telling us about her former beau,” Maria tells her, voice light and teasing in a way that tells Isobel exactly what they were truly discussing.

“I don’t know that Miss- Isobel,” Liz corrects herself, “Would want to hear about that.”

“Please,” Isobel forces a smile to hide her feelings of shame. “I have two brothers. I’m sure I’ve heard far worse.”

Liz seems reluctant to continue, but it’s not long before Rosa is putting Isobel’s assurance to the test. She has heard worse, yes, but, in truth, she’s mostly overheard her brothers speaking of their conquests. They always clam up when she enters the room, as if she is too delicate to hear it.

Rosa shows no such concern, telling them of her own exploits in a way Isobel has never heard before.

Liz just laughs at it and Maria just gives a nod every once in a while, like she can commiserate. But Isobel… Other than a few fumbling boys in school who she had merely allowed to touch her while she thought about Tess Harding, Isobel has almost no experience in this area. She’s never wanted it.

So she plays along and laughs when she’s supposed to, but, when she goes to bed at night, after she touches herself while thinking about Maria’s soft hands instead of her own, she can only think about how wrong she is.

* * *

Things are, in some ways, easier after that. In other ways, they’re much worse.

Isobel is welcomed into the group, listening as they regale each other with their tawdry tales. When they ask about hers, she’s honest, to a point. She admits to her lack of experience, though not the reasons for it. Instead, she blames two overprotective brothers who scared away every potential suitor.

“They’re not here right now, _chica_. We’ll find you someone real nice,” Rosa responds with a smirk.

And that’s how they end up going to a dance hall.

The girls vastly outnumber the boys, but Rosa still manages to find one boy who interests her and she quickly disappears into the crowd.

Liz soon finds a friend and wanders off, chatting about something scientific that Isobel doesn’t understand.

And then it’s just Isobel and Maria, standing on the outside of the crowd.

“Care to dance?” Maria asks, tone gentle.

“I-I thought-” Isobel is aware she probably looks overwhelmed as she reaches desperately for words that won’t come.

“Don’t worry, Miss Evans,” Maria says reassuringly, an almost teasing tone to the way she says Isobel’s name. “If a fellow catches your eye, you let me know.” She looks around, “There are maybe three tolerable men here right now. No reason to stand on the outskirts not dancing.”

Isobel blushes when she takes Maria’s hand and lets her lead the way into the crowd.

It’s not long before they’re both laughing and out of breath, swinging each other about wildly to the music.

Maria looks even more beautiful like this, all done up in her best dress, hair wild and free, a wide smile on her face.

When the music slows, Isobel is looking around, panicked again, unsure of what to do. She’s so confident and capable in any other situation, but put her in front of a beautiful woman and… Isobel is completely lost, unsure of what is safe and acceptable.

Maria shows no such compunction, pulling Isobel close and taking the lead.

After a moment, Maria speaks, voice quiet enough that Isobel is certain no one else can hear it over the music and chatter, “There’s nothing wrong with you, for being like you are.”

Isobel can’t control the way she tenses, the way she looks for an escape.

“I know some people tell you that there is. And maybe you believe it, but…” Maria is silent for a moment, thumb rubbing over Isobel’s fingers until she settles some. “People like us have existed forever, Isobel. We’ve learned to hide ourselves in plain sight, but you can do so and be happy. If you want.”

Isobel’s mind is reeling at the revelation, the way Maria said _like us_. As if she knows… As if she is… “Us?” she finally chokes out.

“I’m not quite the same, no. I’ve been with both. But, yes. Like us. Hell, my friend Al-” she cuts herself off. “Some people learn to hide who they love. But that doesn’t mean they don’t have love.”

“But what about…what the church says?”

“People have been judging and punishing what they don’t understand for centuries. Probably longer. That doesn’t mean they’re right.” She pauses and Isobel watches closely as the thoughts form into words, “You know they aren’t right about me? Or Rosa and Liz?”

Isobel nods quickly. She has heard firsthand the things the neighbors have had to say about women who look like Liz, Rosa, and Maria living with a woman who looks like her. And it’s never been a question to her how very narrow-minded those people are. But, when it comes to herself…

“Just think about it,” Maria says, pulling her closer as the music continues on. Isobel is sure she’s blushing at the feeling of Maria’s soft curves pressed against her own body, at the gentle way Maria’s hand rests on her lower back.

She gives herself permission, just for the night, to enjoy it. To bask in the touch of another woman, no matter how innocent the touch is.

* * *

“Where did you learn all this?” Isobel asks, holding the flashlight as Maria works on the wiring. After going through two light bulbs in a week, Maria had insisted that there was something else wrong. And that there was no need to subject herself to Wyatt Long’s company if Maria could fix it.

“My mama,” Maria replies, before asking for another tool that Isobel rushes to find and hand her. “She was a very capable, independent woman, before she got sick. My father wasn’t around,” she says it as if it is nothing, but Isobel is absolutely certain there’s some pain there. “So my grandfather taught her. And she taught me.” She pauses, “She always did say not to rely on a man to do something you can do yourself.”

Isobel frowns at that. She’s done nothing but rely on her brothers her whole life. They fixed the plumbing and took care of the lawn. She’s been stuck with paying neighbor kids to help or, worse, Wyatt Long, since they’ve been gone. “Do you think you could teach me?” Isobel asks. “Not just this, but all of it?”

And, moments later, Maria is explaining what she’s doing as she does it, looking down and checking that Isobel is watching to see that she understands.

* * *

Isobel stares up at the pipes above her, biting her lip in concentration as she turns the wrench.

Maria is laying next to her, arm touching Isobel’s, warm and comforting as she gives Isobel instructions.

And then, in just a moment, Isobel is done.

“Congratulations!” Maria cries, scooting out from under the sink and sitting up. “You fixed your sink!”

“I don’t know that it’s an accomplishment,” Isobel frowns. But she takes Maria’s offered hands and lets her pull her forward and upright. She tells herself that it’s her imagination that Maria’s hands squeeze hers just a bit. She reminds herself that she can’t have this.

“You didn’t know how to do it an hour ago,” Maria replies with a smile. “I bet you’ve never even gotten these things dirty before,” she says, lifting up Isobel’s hands to show them to her.

“You’d be right about that,” Isobel admits, trying not to read too much into the fact that Maria’s hands are still holding hers.

Maria lets go with one hand and reaches forward, delicate fingers brushing against Isobel’s face, pushing her hair back. “You have some dirt,” she explains.

Isobel starts to dart to her feet to check, but Maria pulls her back with the one hand in hers.

“I got it,” she reassures her. “And don’t worry. You look beautiful either way.”

If Isobel were braver, she’d say something foolish like, “So do you.” And it would be true. Even covered in dirt, Isobel is certain Maria would be radiant.

Maria seems to understand what she’s thinking though, because she just smiles and moves forward, dropping Isobel’s other hand, fingertips moving to brush her face as she leans forward so slowly.

Some part of Isobel is screaming and panicking, but another part of her is marveling at how perfect Maria looks this close up, how Isobel could count all her eyelashes one by one if she wanted. How she smells like jasmine and something citrusy and warm.

Isobel can’t help but freeze when she feels the gentle brush of Maria’s lips, full and soft, against her own.

After a moment, when Isobel is still in the middle of processing the fact that Maria Deluca is kissing her, Maria pulls back and gives her a sad smile. “I’m sorry. I thought-” she takes a breath, standing quickly and brushing off her dress. “We’ll pretend like that never happened.”

And then she’s gone, out the door, and Isobel is left there, on the bathroom floor, wondering what she should do.

* * *

“I’d like to ask you something, if that’s alright?” Isobel says, sitting down at the kitchen table opposite Liz, who has just sat down, book in hand.

Liz sets her book aside and nods, looking wary.

“You’re Catholic, correct?” Isobel asks.

“Is that your question?” Liz asks with an easy smile.

“It’s related to it?”

“Yes, I’m Catholic,” Liz replies. “Or my family is.”

“And… What do you think about people who… That is, those who are… Women who are…” Isobel has never quite said this and she’s grasping for words. Finally, she blurts out, “Women who desire other women like they’re meant to desire men.”

“What do I think or what does the church think?” Liz asks evenly.

“I know what the church thinks. It’s… I’m an abomination.”

Liz reaches across the table, grabbing Isobel’s hand, “You’re not. Just like Rosa’s not going to burn in hell for having some fun with as many boys as she wants.” She pauses before saying, “You do know that the bible condoned slavery?”

Isobel looks at Liz with absolute horror, “It couldn’t possibly- God would never-”

“God’s word filtered through men who will twist it to their own desires?” She pauses before saying plainly, “There’s nothing wrong with you having feelings for Maria. In fact, I’d say it’s a good thing. You know you smile much more with her around, right? You seem more approachable. More at ease with yourself.”

Isobel’s eyes are on the table, her voice little more than a whisper when she asks, “Does everyone know?”

“Does it matter what people think about you? You’re Isobel Evans. I have yet to meet one of those high society types who doesn’t quake with fear when they see you. You can handle them.” She squeezes Isobel’s hand, “I’m fairly certain I’m the only one who knows. And, even if other people find out, they may gossip about it in private, but they’ll ignore it in public. They’ll invent stories about it. They’ll say Maria and you are just very close friends. Like they’ve always done.”

Isobel stills at that. She thinks of the men who lived down the block when she grew up. How she had assumed they were brothers or friends. How, when she fell in front of their house trying to catch up with her brothers in the annoying dress and awkward shoes her parents expected her to wear, when she tripped and skinned her knee, one of them had come out to sit with her as she cried, while the other went inside to get a bandage for her.

She finally looks up to see Liz giving her a tentative smile before she says, “Rosa is running a bit late. Probably seeing a boy. Would you mind helping me start dinner?”

While Isobel is chopping up vegetables, she has time to mull over everything Liz said and what it means to her.

* * *

Isobel’s hands are shaking as she paces back and forth in her bedroom. Maria had been quiet throughout dinner and avoided eye contact with Isobel.

Rosa had carried the conversation as she was prone to do when others seemed uncomfortable, but Isobel hadn’t been able to pay attention, too distracted by the concerns that she had ruined things forever.

Then, after they had finished dinner, while Isobel was cleaning up, Maria had walked up to her and said she would be out by the end of the week.

Now… Isobel knows for certain she has to fix this. She’s never felt this way before. Safe and supported. Understood. Wanted for who she is by someone she also wants.

She’s terrified, but she’s also certain that she wants this.

So she takes several deep breaths, braces herself, and barrels through her door, only stopping so close to Maria’s door she almost runs right into it.

She raises one shaking hand to knock. Once. Twice. Three times.

She completely freezes when Maria opens the door.

Maria looks beautiful as always. Without her makeup, with her hair up, hidden by fabric, she looks positively ethereal, her dark skin glowing in the moonlight.

“Hi,” Isobel finally says, silently cursing herself for sounding so stupid.

Maria looks resigned and sad when she says, “How can I help you, Miss Evans?”

Isobel wants to cry at that distance, hard won and now maybe irretrievably lost. But she’s not here to accept defeat. Not yet.

She slowly moves forward, leaning down, one shaking hand reaching out to touch Maria’s cheek. Her skin is softer than Isobel could even imagine. And she just holds perfectly still as Isobel closes the distance and presses her lips against hers.

Maria is warm and soft, gentle as she lets Isobel lead the way, giving her the time to slowly build the kiss from tentative to more. Isobel takes the time to slowly explore Maria’s mouth with her tongue, to experience the indefinable taste of her that Isobel knows she could grow addicted to.

Finally, she has to pull away for air, but she doesn’t go far, one hand moving to Maria’s hip, the other still touching her jaw.

Maria’s hands are careful, reaching out as if to steady her, but not quite touching.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Isobel tells her softly. “And I don’t want you to call me Miss Evans.”

Maria cracks a smile at that and Isobel feels some of the tension leech out of her. “And?” she prompts, as if she knows to expect more.

“And,” Isobel blushes at that. “I want to keep kissing you. Assuming that’s something you would want.”

Maria pushes forward, lifting up onto her toes and, suddenly, her full lips are pressed against Isobel’s again and it’s like Isobel’s world is spinning on its axis, righting itself after being off so long that Isobel hadn’t even known it wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

Maria lowers back to the ground sooner than Isobel would like, but she’s smiling fully now. “I want to do far more than kiss you. But I suppose we can take things at your pace.”

“Really?” Isobel asks, feeling her own confidence growing. She smirks as she asks, “What things might those be?”

Maria rolls her eyes, but the smile never leaves her face. “Get some sleep, Isobel. I’ll see you in the morning.”

So Isobel makes her way back across the hall to her own room, looking forward to whatever happens in the morning.

* * *

_Two Years Later_

* * *

It’s not long ago that Isobel would have resisted the urge to bounce up onto her toes to see better for worry of what others thought of her. But now, with Maria at her side, Isobel can’t bring herself to care.

She spots Michael stepping out of the bus first, curls unmistakable. She’s not surprised at all when he starts rushing over their way. But then she realizes he’s not moving toward them at all but instead to a soldier standing nearby.

He has dark hair and tanned skin and is leaning heavily on a pair of crutches, right pant leg pinned up. And Isobel watches in surprise as her brother pulls him into a crushing hug, burying his face in the stranger’s neck.

There’s something so intimate about the moment that Isobel forces herself to look away, turning her attention back to the bus.

Max is finally stepping off and she waves him over, smiling in response to the grin that spreads across his face.

Max is the only person she has ever allowed to pick her up in a crushing hug and he does so now as she clings to him until he releases her.

Once her feet are back on the ground, she speaks, “Max, this is Maria.” She’s told him as much as she could safely tell him in letters and she hopes Max understood what she wasn’t saying. They always did understand each other better than anyone else, but she also is completely certain Max has only ever been attracted to women.

He holds out a hand to her, “Miss Deluca, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Evans,” she replies with amusement in her tone.

“Is Michael going to come home with us?” Isobel asks, nodding over in her other brother’s direction.

Max laughs, “Nah. He’s been worried sick about Alex over there since he got injured. Even after we got word he’d survived. Pretty sure he is to Michael what Maria is to you. He’ll come up for air in a few days. We’ll see him then.”

Isobel blushes. “And what does that mean? What Maria is to me,” she clarifies. She’s not concerned, not really. Merely curious about whether or not Max has truly put it together.

“She makes you happy. More at ease with yourself.” He pauses before adding, “Don’t worry. I’m just happy you’ve found someone who loves you and who you love.”

Isobel feels the tension she was still holding fall away at that.

Max swings his bag up over his shoulder before he says, “Lead the way. I look forward to meeting this Miss Liz Ortecho you’ve told me so much about.”


End file.
